And I turned away, ashamed.
Slowly, she brought her hand to my cheek, bringing my face toward hers, willing me to see in her eyes the trust she felt.
It was a moment suspended in time.
I was surprised when she ducked down and scrabbled under the bed, looking for something. Then she placed a small jewelry box on the quilt next to me.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said softly.
“Oh, shit. You swap presents at Thanksgiving? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Not usually, but . . . well, you bought me my ring so I thought, well, I hope you like it.”
I opened the box and stared down at the silver St. Christopher, similar to the one I’d lost.
“Patron saint of travelers,” she said, lifting it from the box and fastening it around my neck. “And you’ve traveled so far, Ash.”
I didn’t have the words, so I kissed her, showing her with my hands and with my body how much that meant to me.
My hands cupped her cheeks then slid to her neck, her pulse trembling under my fingers. I let my hands move down to her shoulders, arms, waist, hips, tugging her against my new erection.
She laughed softly against my skin, her lips warm on my chest, gently pushing me away, pink, breathless.
Reluctantly, I lay back and she began tracing her fingers around my tattoos.
“You never did tell me what all these meant. What does this say?”
I didn’t need to look at the one she was talking about.
“It’s Serbo-Croat, written in Cyrillic. My grandfather was Serbian. It says ‘born to dance’.”
She laughed softly.
“Of course it does. When did you get it?”
“I was 16. It was my first—and illegal if you’re under 18. But Mom had died a few months before and I’d been bugging the guy at the tattoo shop to do it for me. When he saw I wasn’t going away, he gave in.”
She nodded her understanding and let her fingers drift over my shoulder and the rest of the ink.
“And your dad hated it.”
“Yes.”
She hesitated over the next question.
“Have you spoken to him since . . . since everything?”
I shook my head.
“No, and I’m not going to.”
She frowned. “But family is important.”
“My mama was important. I don’t give a shit about him.”
“Why? What did he do?”
I sighed. “I hate talking about him.”
“Ash, after everything we’ve been through, you can’t tell me?”
She sounded hurt.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“He’s just an asshole. He never wanted me around. My parents married six months before I was born.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. He made it obvious that I was a mistake. I have no memories of him smiling or laughing with us. When he was out with his friends, yes, but not with us. I don’t think he wanted to be a father.”
“And your dancing?”
“It was Mama’s idea. She loved to dance, so she sent me to classes when I was small. My father was angry when he learned what she’d done. He thought I’d grow out of it.” I gave Laney a small smile. “He’s still waiting.”
“Surely he was proud when you did so well in competitions?”
“No, it was embarrassing to him when my name was in the newspaper. His friends told him I was gay. It was just another reason for him to hate me. It wasn’t too bad when Mama was alive, but after . . .”
I stretched back on the bed and closed my eyes, smiling as I felt Laney’s soft kiss on my bare chest.
“He thought he could make me stop and he sent me to work for his construction business. ‘You live in this house and eat my food’, that’s what he said. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I moved out.”
Laney’s fingers stroked across my stomach.
“It’s his loss,” she said softly.
But by now, I could hear the sounds of voices and knew that everyone was awake. That meant our moment in this cocoon of feeling was over.
Laney knew it too and sat up.
“You can tell me about the rest another time,” she smiled. “Right now, I’ll check if the shower is empty. I’d say come with me, but Aunt Lydia’s guest bathroom is too small, unfortunately.”
She grinned at me and padded out of the room.
My head swam with new thoughts.
The urgent, necessary drive of the night before and just now. This, with Laney, had left me a different man since I walked into our borrowed bedroom.
I was 23 and I’d lived three lifetimes: the time before, Las Vegas, and then my life beginning again with Laney. Each one had sculpted me, and each one had changed me.
I just wasn’t sure it was for the better.
Laney